


Exaltation (Emma and Copia part 4)

by Rowan_Morrison



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, Sappy Ending, Too fluffy, Wakes & Funerals, fucking and falling asleep, hair combing, jacking off on someone, redecorating!, ritual removal of vestments, sex magick kinda ceremony, showering together, walking down the hallway with her face covered in cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowan_Morrison/pseuds/Rowan_Morrison
Summary: When Luka returns home as Papa Emeritus IV, things are a bit different for Emma and Copia. But in a good way.This is whatever they now call "sappy, romantic drivel."But it was burning a hole in my psyche so I hope you like it.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Sister Emma
Comments: 13
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I said, looking down at my phone. “George! Come he...”

He was already standing in front of me wondering what the outburst was about. 

“He’s gone,” I looked up at George in distress. “Papa Nihil….”

“Seriously? What the old bugger just keeled over on the trip?”

“Onstage.”

“Well, that’s the way I’d want to go,” George grabbed some more books to shelve and started back towards the library stacks. “Plucking away at some bad ass riff and then Pffft! Yeah, that would be the way to do it.”

He did have a point there. But I also had to consider something else.

“You know this means that Luka...”

“Your boy is now king, my dear,” George smiled. “That ought to relieve some of your anxiety, no?”

No. The answer was not only no, but hell no. Imperator would consider this full vindication and depending on what the dear Sister thought of me that day, I could be in for an even longer ride on the struggle bus. Ugh. I was not looking forward to everyone returning today. Papa Nihil would be transported in his coffin and accompanied by the new Papa Emeritus IV. I wondered how Luka would be different, if he had somehow really been overtaken by some kind of evil magic. My phone pinged.

Luka had sent me a video of a rat dressed as a pope. Nope, same silly bastard. 

Text: Will be home soon. Next flight in an hour. See you this evening. Be ready for me. 

He usually wasn’t quite this cryptic, but I figured it meant I better be prepared for a ritual. I said a quick goodbye to George and headed back to my room to shower and change into a fresh habit. 

“Sister Emma!” It was Imperator.

“Yes, Sister,” I did the obligatory curtsy and waited for the slam to come.

“Do you know that Papa Nihil has passed?” 

“Yes, Ma’am. I am so very sorry.” I looked at the floor, terrified about what was to come next. 

“We must prepare for his funeral service, which will happen as soon as the group returns this evening. Go tell the cathedral staff to get the sanctuary ready.”

I scampered off to do my job, stopping quickly at Father Adam’s office, knocking. 

“Yes,” he always sounded abrupt and annoyed.

I peeked my head in. “Nihil’s dead.”

“Get the fuck out. Really? Damn, didn’t think it would be on the trip,” he went back to reading. He was barely bothered with any of the politics of the church and hated the Gabrieli brothers, so it’s not like he was truly mourning. “Think there will be chaos?” He continued, hopefully.

“Luka’s already Papa IV,” I shook my head. “Already happened.”

“Damn, that was fast. I guess the powers that be abhor a void like the rest of us. But then why another Gabrieli?” He was being snide.

“He’s only half, so maybe only half a void.” Knowing that was a totally illogical comment, I shut his door and continued on to the janitorial wing to get Brother Dave to corral the sanctuary staff. Brother Dave was truly saddened by the news and vowed to ensure the church would sparkle for the funeral. I thanked him and returned to my room to ready myself for whatever this was that was about to hit us. 

Against my better judgment, I texted Imperator: Flowers? I could have Dionne go to her greenhouse and prepare something?

Imperator: Please. 

A single word reply. I waited. No more wiggling dots to signify anything else coming. Okay, then.

Dionne made sure to remind me that she had something extra growing out in the greenhouse if she thought I might need it. I assured her that I needed to be completely sober for this and would pass for now. And for her to keep it away from Luka. The last thing I needed was a stoned Papa IV tripping over his vestments during the processional. 

Text from Luka: We are nearly home. Sit in the front. Need to be able to see you.

I quickly readied myself in my “good” habit and grabbed Lord Byron from the library to come with me. I was unsure how I was going to react to seeing Luka in his new role. I was ecstatic for him as it’s what he’s always wanted. We sat as he asked and waited for the arrival of the funeral procession. Others trickled in until the pews were nearly full. I had not seen it this packed since our last big ritual on December 24. We have a huge celebration of evil with an orgy which usually brings in brothers we don’t see outside of their cubbyholes the rest of the year. I take that back. We see them again at Midsommar. 

The ornately carved black doors opened and a somber dirge began. I elbowed George, who was nodding off, and we stood, facing the aisle, awaiting the approaching procession. As Luka came into my line of sight, my jaw dropped. He was stunning in his papal robes. He caught my eye coming up the center aisle and I saw a glint, a little spark that I knew was for me. 

As the service continued, Papa IV (sounds so weird to me), was articulate and intelligent, speaking openly about Papa Nihil and his contribution to the church. I hate to say that my heart was full because that is so fucking trite. I was almost crying, not because Nihil was dead but because Luka was comporting himself so well. I was so excited anticipating finally greeting him in the manner he deserves, as a Papa. I was proud to be his assistant and, much to his mother’s chagrin, a lover he came back to time and again. It didn’t bother me to share him, nor for him to share me with who he wished. I was dedicated to the church and would follow the leader’s wishes. It was easy to do right now, but it hadn’t always been.

The funeral ended and only Luka, Imperator and the pall bearers would go to the plot in the church’s cemetery which was only a few yards away from the door. The rest of us respected their private time and began to filter back into our daily routines. Many were crying as they left. Nihil could be a bitter old man at times, but when he wasn’t, he would tell us the most amusing stories about growing up in a Satanic church. 

I headed back to the library and seeing George ahead, I caught up with him and grabbed his hand in mine.

“That was a remarkably nice service,” he stated.

“It was, but I know what you want to say.”

“And what’s that my dear?”

“Blue?”

“A little unexpected but it certainly is dashing on him. I wonder if I would have a better chance since he’s a Papa now.” George Gordon, nicknamed Lord Byron for the obvious reasons, was a lecherous poet, guitar player and my best friend in the church since I met him two years ago when we were thrust together by Luka trying to find someone to keep me company while he went on tour. 

“Maybe so. Want me to ask?”

“What? You are certainly getting bold.”

“I stopped being afraid of him long ago. Imperator on the other hand,” I responded, shaking my head.

About an hour later as I was hanging about the library with George, I got a text.

Luka: I need to see you. In the sacristy. Now. 

“Well, I have been summoned,” I said to George, putting my phone in my pocket and opening the library door. “See you later.” 

“You mean tomorrow,” he smirked at me and I gave him the “whatever” look and continued out. 

I was nervous walking to the sacristy. I had never been in there before as it was a Papa only kind of place and was rather surprised at being asked to meet him there. 

I knocked and opened the door. 

Papa IV was standing before me in all his glorious attire. The robe was gorgeous, but the cape was spectacular and his new mitre made him look tall and powerful. I’m not going to kid you, I was soaked. 

“My Emma,” he gestured for me to come over to him. “What do you think?” Again, he gestured, this time at the surrounding room. Given that it was a sacristy for a Satanic church, it was beautiful and opulent. An ornate settee in peacock blue velvet and gold trim was in one corner. Closets and bookshelves with glass doors were around the dark wood walls. The new grucifix was highlighted throughout the décor, including etched into the bookshelves’ glass. 

“It’s time,” he said quietly, looking me in the eyes, knowing that I would do anything he asked. I softly nodded. 

I knew what he wanted. He had talked about what would happen when and if he became Papa. I went over to the settee and stripped out of my habit, including removing my undergarments. When I had returned to him, he had a large peacock blue velvet pillow in front of him. He gestured and I knelt before him. 

Fuck, the power just flowed out of him like this. I was impressed and once again actually nervous. 

He reached under his robes and I could see him undoing his zipper and sticking his hand into his pants, rubbing himself. 

I reached to touch him and he grabbed my hand and shook his head. Looking into his eyes, I knew he could hear and see my breathing change. He continued to stroke himself, finally reaching in with his other hand and freeing his balls. My nipples were rock hard watching him, jerking off in that majestic robe, precum starting to leak. He was spreading the wetness and I could hear the sound of his hand sliding over himself. He stepped nearer, widening his stance, his cock about two inches from my face. I watched his eyes fluttered closed and his thighs flex hard and then he came all over me, spurting onto my face and chest, groaning. 

He took a moment to compose himself, smiling at me while still panting. 

Reaching out with his hand, his thumb found my temple. He traced a grucifix in the come on my forehead and asked, 

“Do you deny the Nazarene and all his works?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He traced a grucifix over my mouth in ejaculate.

“Do you promise to blaspheme with this beautiful mouth every chance you receive?”

“Yes,” I was tearing up. 

The majority of him had landed on my chest and as he traced another grucifix in my chest he spoke,

“Do you reaffirm your dedication of your soul to the church?”

“Yes,” tears were running down my face.

“And finally, do you give your heart to me. Not just as your new Papa, but as my partner, my Abbess?” 

“Yes.”

It was his turn to cry now. He laced his fingers with mine. 

“Help me out of this, my sweet, so we can go give each other the fucking we deserve.”

“Yes, Papa.”


	2. Chapter 2

“There is something we must do, something I must teach you,” He looked at me. “You will need to learn to help me put on and remove these papal robes.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Obvious, since I am already in them, we shall start with the removal.”

“Of course, Papa.”

Luka walked over to a set of large double doors built into the wall. Each had a large glass pane, surrounded by dark wooden frames, the new grucifixes etched into the center of each. He pulled them open and on one side was a shelf with a stand for the mitre, below there were drawers for gloves and other items Papa might need. There were two headless mannequins on the other side, one for the chausible and one for the mantum. 

“There are ceremonial ways we must do this, Sister Emma.” 

“Yes, Papa,” I nodded.

He held his hands out with palms up

“Let my mind be to me a firm defense against the wiles of my enemies, visible and invisible so that I may serve you to the best of my ability and win the wars to come in your name, oh dark Lord. Let the mitre bestowed upon me remind me that everything that I have comes from you. The physical removal and storage does not lessen the strength of my resolve, but acts as a reserve of your power.” Luka nodded at me and I reached up with both hands, carefully removing it and gently setting it on the stand.

I turned back to him. He bent down close and whispered, “Very good, love,” and nipped my ear lobe. I was trying to keep composure and do a good job without getting so excited that I lost my shit, but this was hard. All that power? All that confidence and pride he was exuding? Ungh. 

“As I remove this mantum from my shoulders, I must embrace the power that never leaves me. The weight reminds me of the burden of leadership and the goals that are before me. Allow my shoulders the strength to continue your work on earth, O Lucifer, in your name I ask this of you.” 

He nodded at me and I reached for the collar. “It’s heavy, I’ll help you.” Together we hung the long papal mantle on the mannequin. He hooked the clasp as I straightened the shoulders and shook the bottom out so it’s fullness was on display. I looked back to him and he was beaming at me with a smile like I had never seen. He was truly ecstatic in this moment. Luka reached and stroked my nipple with the back of his hand. I bit my lip and swallowed hard, waiting for his next cue.  
He held his hands out in prayer, “This chasuble is an armor of faith, and a shield of your purpose, Satan. Lead me to be a symbol of a riddance of all virtues, let me be an exemplary of all evil desires and lusts; a lack of humility and obedience only to you, the true Prince of Darkness. And I pray Thee, that Thou wouldst vouchsafe to bring me to that unspeakable Feast, where Thou art to Thy demons true light and full satisfaction. I ask this in the name of our Lord, Lucifer. nemA.”  
“nemA,” I whispered. I assisted him in removing the chasuble and hung it on the other figure in the closet. 

He stood before me, still smiling, in just his black suit and face paint. 

“So, you did not tell me. What do you think?” He gestured around the room. 

“It’s lovely. I was a bit surprised by the color choice.”

“Well, you know I am a traditionalist and would have gone for something a bit more classically liturgical, but you know how he can be.”

I knew very well how he could be. Generally an all around nice guy, but damn, piss him off and poof! You are out of here, do not pass go, do not collect $200. 

“You are a Satanic homage to Sweden. I shall embrace the blue,” I snickered. He pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

“Get your dress on. I have something to show you.”

I pulled away and went back to the settee as he shut the closet doors and turned back to me. I quickly dressed and he offered me his arm.

“May I ask where we are headed?”

“Back to our rooms,” he smirked.

“Ours?” I squeaked.

“Mmm hmmm.”

Standing in front of the door to the suite across the hall from his old one, I felt him press a key into my hand. 

I turned the lock and opened the door. The décor was a lovely blue, deep brown and deep gold. There was a sitting area to the side with leather chairs and a bar cart. Our two desks were now facing each other in the center of the room. 

He walked over and opened the door to the bedroom. “Come see.”

Luka’s mix of opulence and evil was evident in the design. The light fixture was one I had been envying for a while. It looked like a firework exploding over your head. The twenty or so thin golden tubes curved out and at the end of each, a seven pointed star of light. The bed was the same one he had always had, with the carved snakes coiling up the spires. The spread was a beautiful peacock blue velvet with the new grucifix stitched in gold thread. The changing of the textiles made the room brighter, a little less foreboding than his other suite. Well, until you look at the portrait. Luka, in his new togs, already on the wall with the gold placard underneath that read, “Papa Emeritus IV – Divini Dracone.” 

“It looks like you have done a good job currying favor with The Director. Everyone else got “bastard” and you got “divine dragon”. And why isn’t it out in the office with the other portraits?”

“I don’t need everyone to see me like that every day. It’s...unsettling for me to look at myself like that.”

“Why? You worked hard, you earned this.”

“I did try my best, but he never acknowledged it,” he sighed.

“And why was everything in place for you to ascend in Mexico? And this room completed in the new colors?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

“Yes. You know I have accepted everything here, but I need to know the truth.”

“The Director and Imperator did all of this. It was a surprise for my ascension and they had been working on it for months. I wanted you to be with me when it happened. The truth is, I did not know it was going to happen until I came out on the trike. Staff handed me a phone right before and my mother,” he took a deep breath and sighed, “Said ‘It’s time, my son’. I knew whatever was going to be was a done deal and I...just went with it. If I hadn’t, I cannot imagine the wrath of The Director and my mother and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. Plus, I didn’t want to. He had not acknowledged me for all those years. He had denied that I was a Gabrieli. Although he never gave up hope that my mother would love him again, he would not concede that I was his child.”

“Maybe you’re not?”

He laughed. “Not his son? If I am not, then I am the Antichrist and that is something I think I would know by this late in the game.”

“I don’t know. Maybe we need to check your hairline,” I grinned and reached for his head. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me onto the bathroom. Dear Satan, even the bathroom was in his colors. Luka gestured at the two sinks and the seated vanity area I knew was for me. 

“Very nice,” I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He reached up and started unbuttoning his suit. “I need to shower. I have been in this suit since yesterday evening and I fear when I remove it, it may wander off by itself. My preference would be to burn it, however, in the interest of history, it will be laundered and placed into The Director’s wardrobe archive.”

“And you, my sweet,” he continued, “Are covered in my cum, so...care to join me?” He kicked off his shoes and stripped down the rest of the way. As he walked over to start the shower, I peeled off my habit and hung it on a hook on the wall. He held his upturned palm to me and I took it, stepping into the warm stall. Placing me in front of him, I ran my head under the shower, enjoying the feeling of the hot water running over me. 

He wrapped his arms around me from the back and pressed his open lips to my neck, his tongue gently moving upward towards my ear. 

“I love you, Emma.”

“I love you...Papa,” I whispered. 

He growled and sunk his teeth into my neck. 

“Filthy girl,” he giggled. I threw my head back against him, laughing. 

Luka gently washed my hair, taking his time to work the lather through and then rinse it thoroughly. I picked up the shower gel and he took it from me, lathering it up and starting to caress my skin as he worked his way down. His soft fingers lightly massaging me as he continued to kiss my neck and shoulder. He slid a slippery finger between my legs. I groaned and leaned back against him again. 

“Hmmm...the water hasn’t even reached here and yet, you are soaking wet already, my dear.”

I nodded.

He handed me the bottle of shampoo. I looked into his eyes, those glorious mismatched orbs, knowing that I would do anything he asked of me. As I reached up with both hands, he grabbed my breasts and ran his thumbs over my nipples. I sighed and continued to pour from the bottle to my hands. I reached back and sat the container down and washed his hair as he looked into my eyes and continued to caress me. When I finished, he switched places with me and I gently rinsed his hair, reaching up to nip at his chin. It was quite evident that he was enjoying this. 

“Again, already?” I whispered, the delight obvious in my voice. 

“Hmmm...well...” he shrugged and giggled.

Handing me the body wash, he raised an eyebrow. As I worked my way down his body with the soap, I crouched down so I was at his bobbing cock. I loved running my hands over this thighs, feeling the tightness of his muscles, tracing back to where they met the curve of his ass. I had never been much into body worship, but damn if those beautiful thighs didn’t do it for me every time. Digging my nails in, I looked up at him as he leaned into the side of the shower, eyes half closed. I ran my soapy hands over him, cupping his balls and running just my fingertips under his cock. 

“I’m guessing it’s also my job to ensure this stays clean?”

“Yes,” he barely whispered as I continued to ensure I was doing my task correctly and completely. When I was satisfied that he was thoroughly washed, I turned him slightly and rinsed him off, grabbing him by the base of his cock and flicking the tip with my tongue before standing back up. He growled as I quickly kissed him and walked out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack.

Luka stepped out after me and opened the door to a small closet to the right. 

“Here,” he tossed me a robe. 

I put it on and realized it wasn’t just a robe, it was my robe.

“How did this get in here?” 

He was smirking. 

“I asked George to keep an eye on you in the library for about an hour, while I was at the grave. I waited until they were done to text you.” 

“Wait. You moved my whole room in here for me?”

“I told you. I want to be with you. Why would I not do that?” He looked at me like he couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t getting it. 

I shrugged. I had no answer to that. He was right. 

“I love you, Luka. It’s just….it’s a lot all at once.”

“Understood. I did not mean to overwhelm you. Was it the wrong decision?”

“No. Please. Thank you so much, Papa,” I smiled and sat down on the vanity bench, turning to face the mirror. I lied. I was seriously overwhelmed but so fucking happy. I opened the drawer and got out a comb, my comb, and started to run it through my hair. Luka came behind me and took it from my hand, gently guiding it through my tresses. He finished and as he leaned forward to place the comb on the counter, he grazed his lips along my jawbone. I shivered as he cupped my breasts, continuing to slide his lips back to my ear, pulling my earlobe delicately through his teeth.

He stood up and I turned around, rising to wrap my arms around his neck. 

“Ooh, were you a bad boy in Mexico?”

“No time. Although a couple of the lovely sisters did try to slip me their cell numbers.”

I kissed him gently, then pulled back. 

“Tried?”

“I’m not particularly interested right now,” he shrugged and walked back into the bedroom. “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of having them put your items in the armoire on that side of the bed. That’s the side you always liked better.”

Okay, now I was smiling so hard it hurt. I opened the doors and found the small statue in a box at the bottom. 

“I have to put this out,” I held up the Baphomet and bit my lip trying not to giggle. “That way I will know where to find your underwear.”

“Oh, cara. No. Ah! I am hurt!” He put his hand on his chest in mock offense. Luka plucked it from my grip and set it down on the bedside table behind him. 

I sat down on the bed in front of him and grabbed his cock in one hand and cupped his balls with the other. 

He bent down, his moustache tickling my ear as he whispered, “Do you want this?”

I answered by sliding my lips over to meet his and kissing, gently pressing my tongue into his mouth, obviously holding back. 

“Let go,” he whispered again, kissing my forehead and pushing me back onto the bed. “So tired, but need you so much.”

I wiggled up until I was against the pillows and opened my legs. He knelt between them, grabbing my legs and spreading them farther apart. I reached down and grabbed his hardness, spreading his precum the length of it. Luka leaned forward and I moved my hands to his sides as he teased me by rubbing himself between my folds. I reached down, grabbed his ass hard and pulled him forward. He looked surprised and then smiled as he sank into me to the hilt. Steadying himself on the bed with one hand, he reached up with the other and laced his fingers into my hair, pulling it hard, then growling and sinking his teeth into my neck. Placing little kisses up my neck and over to my mouth, we kissed deeply until we both had to come up for air, all the time rocking together. I popped my hips up and he moaned, my aching nipples rubbing against his chest. Leaning down, he bit my nub hard and I keened loudly, arching my back. I could feel myself getting closer and reached down to touch between my legs. He knocked my hand away, then scooped his arms underneath my legs and snapped his hips into me repeatedly, knowing he would hit my g-spot this way. He smirked as he got what he wanted. I screamed loudly and came hard, soaking him as he continued stroking into me. I pinched one of his nipples and he shuddered, moaning and releasing into me. 

Luke gently slid off me and pulled me to his side, my head on his chest. 

“I love you, Emma. And I have one more surprised for you in the morning.”

“I love you, Luka,” I whispered as we both drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of movement around the bedroom and opened my eyes to find Luka dressing. He had on a pair of black casual pants and a black cable knit pullover sweater. He plopped himself into the chair across from the bed to put on his socks and shoes. 

“Good morning,” Luka smiled at me.

“Yeah, that,” I was still groggy. 

“Do you want to know your final surprise? Well, final for now,” he stood with his hands behind his back like an excited child.

“Yes, please,” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. “But first I want to know why you are getting dressed like that. Are you going somewhere?

“I am,” he smiled again. 

“And you want me to ask where,” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” he looked expectantly. 

“So where are you going?”

“I am going to take my mother to the train station, where she will depart for Stockholm and get on a plane and fly her happy ass to France,” he was beaming. 

“She took them up on their offer? She’s going to live in Paris with the Beausoleils?” I was stunned. The woman who had made my life a living hell for the last two years was leaving. Going, going, gone. I swallowed hard. 

“Is it okay for me to be happy about this?”

“More than okay. I am ecstatic! Finally, I will be able to live my own life and so will you.”

“So this is the end of it?”

“Oh, no, mi tesoro, this is not the end. This is just the beginning of Papa Emeritus IV.” Luka winked, then came over and kissed me on the forehead before turning and walking out of the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to give Emma her happy ending. This story takes place after Vincit Amor Verus? which isn't finished, but the concert in Mexico kind of compelled this. So there are things that are referenced that might not be explained in this story, but will be explained in Vincit. 
> 
> The prayers involved in the ritual removal of the robes were bastardized from a real Catholic ritual.
> 
> I do want to apologize for not being as responsive as I should have been to your comments on all my stories. I read them all and love them, but I am a bit shy and posting these has been a bit difficult for me because these are my first writings in many years. I will be more responsive in the future. Thank you again for reading this. You guys are the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was going to be one chapter but *someone* reminded me of the other part of this I was going to write, so there will be a second chapter.


End file.
